Punch-Drunk

It has been exactly one month since my last post. First, time flies. Second, I have a lot to say. Third, I’m going to try not to say much.

To start–I can’t believe I’m able to say this and mean it–my pain is down to a quarter of what it used to be. Last week I made it for a stretch of six days without vicodin. Before that I can’t remember the last time I went more than one day. Jesus has taken such good care of me. I’m working, I’m active, I’m almost never restricted or held back by unmanageable pain. It’s a gift. A miracle beyond what I ever expected. Even as I type this out I find myself totally dumbfounded. A couple months ago I would have laughed at you though bitter tears if you had told me I’d be well again. It would have stung like a sick joke. Not because I thought Jesus was incapable of healing me, but because nine straight months of chronic, incessant, unmanageable pain had me convinced wellness just wasn’t in the works for me.

Let me say it again. Jesus is in the business of kindly proving me wrong. And I love Him for it.

And speaking of loving Him–that’s taken on a whole new meaning in my life. I don’t remember if I’ve written about this before, but I don’t care. It’s Friday, I’m in love. (But seriously, it is actually Friday & I’m in love.)

I mean, honestly I’m toast. Don’t even know how to properly wrestle my feelings into words. All I can do is sit here and smile like a doofus because Jesus has executed the perfect swoop and I am a goner. A month ago, I wrote about being lonely. A week later, I met some friends. Sure, I was fully expecting Jesus would bring me friends eventually, but these goons are people I feel at home with. Similar interests, similar quirks. They speak my language. Are you kidding me?

Just to clarify, over-spiritualizing things has always been a major pet peeve of mine. I feel it’s less genuine when everything is “God told me this, God told me that.. Blah blah.” And maybe that’s because some people in my life have used the God card before to cover their butts when they’ve hurt me. Maybe because I’ve done it too.

The point is, though, lately I’ve been eating my words. These days its been harder and harder to not see Jesus everywhere in my life, harder to not give Him credit for everything good in it. The things that have been happening lately are so blatantly Him. Listen. Somehow in the last 30 days, He has not only eradicated my pain and my loneliness, but He’s made me feel at home here. Here. In Sacramento, California where I swore I would never ever return: humans that speak my language, physical restoration, and a brand new understanding of who Jesus is to me.

No, I’m not ashamed of the mistakes I’ve made. No, I don’t resent the pain I have felt these last few years. And, no, I don’t want to leave.

No. Because everything–grime and all–has worked out beautifully.

We are fully known and radically loved and relentlessly pursued by the Creator of the entire galaxy who has a habit of making chaos into unbridled goodness beyond measure. The kind of goodness that speaks to Jesus’s undeniable sovereignty. The kind of goodness that has hit me like a thousand blows to the heart and left me hopelessly punch-drunk.

I can’t think of His name without smiling.

“and I know God has made everything beautiful for its time. God has also placed in our minds a sense of eternity; we look back on the past and ponder over the future, yet we cannot understand the doings of God.” -Ecclesiastes 3:11